


Lapidot Anniversary Week Day 1: Back to Life

by theregoesjodariel



Series: Lapidot Anniversary Week 2019 [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Lapidot Anniversary Week, Magic, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theregoesjodariel/pseuds/theregoesjodariel
Summary: Lapidot Anniversary Week Day 1: Fantasy AU.Peridot, an aspiring alchemist, gets a house call to handle a strange haunting. What she finds instead is the revival of love.





	Lapidot Anniversary Week Day 1: Back to Life

**Author's Note:**

> It's the moooost wonderful time of the year...  
> Welcome to my Lapidot Anniversary Week 2019 stuff, y'all! It's far and away my favorite ship in SU (heck, maybe my favorite fictional relationship ever), so I'm happy to participate in this little celebration. The week's prompts, of course, come from the Lapidot Anniversary Week blog run by the great and powerful @jenhedgehog. My goal is to do at least a drabble for each prompt this week.  
> Speaking of, this was supposed to be a DRABBLE. Can you believe it? Cause I can't. This fic was inspired by the Mystery Skulls song of the same title-- do listen to it, it RULES.   
> Anyway, read on for the gay fluff y'all are here for.

_ “I’m… leaving, Peridot. I don’t know when I’ll be back.” _

_ She slipped her wrist out of the smaller woman’s hand. _

_ “Beach City. It’s a long ride. Take care of Pumpkin for me, will you?” _

_ She could do nothing but nod and give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye. “Of course.” _

_ That was their last time together. _

* * *

 

Beach City is far smaller than the name suggests. As she makes her way through the small town, the alchemist once again wonders why she has been called here. She passes some sort of Temple-- surely, whatever clerics or other mages live there could handle a haunting better than Peridot Olivine, aspiring alchemist of the Yellow School. 

She approaches her destination: a well-kept barn, just on the town’s outskirts. Next to it, in the moonlight, she can make out shimmering water; the source of the so-called haunting, she presumes. It’s probably just a water weird or something of that sort, just a little transmutation and it’ll be out of Mr. DeMayo’s hair.

Speaking of, though, the barn’s owner, the man who sent for her, is nowhere to be found. She reaches the old wooden doors to find them barred. A note, nailed to the decaying wood, reads:

_ Gone on a trip with my brother and son. The pond’s on your right. Good luck! -A.D. _

Peridot puts a hand to the bridge of her nose. So far,  _ not _ so good. “You’re leaving town  _ now? _ Then why was I called to come here  _ specifically tonight _ , you  _ clod!? _ You’d better be back to pay me! _ ” _ she yells, putting her hands in the air. She hopes wherever DeMayo is, he can hear her righteous indignation.

She straightens her gold-rimmed glasses and green alchemist’s uniform. She supposes she might as well get it over with.

“Pfft, haunting,” she chuckles.

The pond, she realizes, is  _ immaculate _ in comparison to the structure residing next to it. The water is clear, a brilliant, almost unnatural silvery-blue. Looking down in its surface, she can make out her reflection perfectly.

Clapping her hands together, she says, “alright, water spirit, or  _ whatever _ that bumpkin thinks you are, let’s see why my help was so sorely needed.” She takes out a simple stick of chalk and strafes the pond’s edges, drawing a circle to invoke the thing in the water, draw it out.

* * *

 

Through the fog of the water, the thing that is part of her and not part of her, the woman stirs. A voice, a voice she’s never heard before, but it’s so… familiar?

She can’t make out the person through the water, but their muffled voice…

_ Why are you so familiar? _

* * *

 

Peridot sits cross-legged in front of the new-encircled pond. The chalk circle has been embellished with runes and small candles; now all she needs to do is read.

She cracks open the dusty invocation tome, the pages torn and weathered. Her instructor, Professor Zircon, loned this to her on one simple condition: that she’d make good use of it.

“Let’s call this good use,” she mutters. And she starts to read the dog-eared passage, the Call to the River Spirit.

* * *

 

Once again-- she’s lost count of how many times she’s gone through the motions-- she remembers what she forgot.

She remembers her mother sending her on a trip on behalf of the Blue Court. Remembers leaving school, leaving her best friend. Remembers how she was a living  _ peace offering,  _ a sacrificial lamb to the White Court.

Her best friend. Oh, how she wished she and Peridot could have been  _ more _ .

The feeling of the spell being cast ( _ curse _ , she thought, was a more apt term) rips through her once again. It’s like cinder blocks tied to her very soul, sending her sinking down and she can’t see she can’t  _ see or hear or FEEL or _ \--

She is the water. Clear, unmoving.  _ Nothing _ .

She remembers trying to use her voice to talk to the man who moved into the nearby barn. How she’d shout until her nonexistent lungs gave out, calling for her friend.

But then she feels something new. It’s like someone just took a knife to the rope holding one of the blocks in place, letting her swim up a little higher. The surface of her, the surface of the miniature ocean she has become… She can see through it now.

And staring back down at her is the one she’s missed the most.

* * *

 

Peridot can’t quite put her finger on it, but something’s changed in the air. A gentle breeze has come in, only in a metaphysical sense. She feels like she’s seeing an old friend for the first time in a long time.

“Help… Help… Help…”

She does a double take. That voice is-- it’s  _ her _ voice. Something is using her voice, with her inflections. The thing in the water is… Talking to her.

She leans down, her concern growing. “Yes, hello? I’m-- my name is Peridot Olivine. I’m here to help. Uh, if I can.”

* * *

 

“Help-- called to-- you-- Peridot,” she parrots back, picking up bits and pieces and repurposing them. She wishes she could communicate her relief, communicate how much she missed the shorter girl, but she quite literally can’t.

Right now, she just needs to get out.

* * *

 

“Okay,” she says, the shock having passed, calmer now. “I don’t know  _ exactly _ what the situation is, but I’ll do my best. Trained Yellow Scholar here, yessir… Or ma’am, or whatever you are. Just tell me when I’m onto something.”

And then the spirit does something unexpected. “I’m-- leaving-- Peridot--,” it says.  _ She _ says. “I don’t know-- when-- I’ll-- be back.”

She freezes. She recognizes the words immediately, all too well. Peridot isn’t surprised this time. This time, it’s  _ deeper. _ It’s a terrible feeling, a feeling of dread. A feeling of loss.

But maybe it doesn’t have to be. Could it really be…

“...Lapis?”

* * *

 

It worked! She found the right words and now she  _ knows! _ “Yessir--” she repeats.

Through the water, she sees Peridot’s jaw drop. “Oh stars, I-- I can’t believe it! I’m… Stars, Lapis. It’s really you.” There are tears in her eyes. Joyful ones.

“Believe it!-- help-- sorely needed,” Lapis says.

That snaps Peridot back to attention, her face a mask of determination. “Right, okay! Except… I do really have no clue what to--  _ oh! _ ”

* * *

 

Peridot knows  _ exactly _ what to do. Lapis is either a ghost or as good as a ghost. Dead, in clinical terms.

Really, alchemists are  _ all about _ finding ways to cheat death.

She frantically edits the chalk circle, erasing and replacing symbols and switching around candles. It won’t be easy to pull off, but if she can do it, it’ll all be worth it.

She sits back down and flips through the pages of the book. Finally, she finds it: a whole section marked “Transmutation.”

Turning water into a person. Well, if the person was there at the start...

* * *

 

Lapis Lazuli remembers well what it looks like when Peridot Olivine is in the zone, so she keeps her repeating mouth shut as the girl works.

She thinks back instead to their parting. How abrupt it had been. How abrupt it had been… how  _ unfair _ . Did the Diamond Court really want her gone that much. Because, what, she was a powerful magic user? It was preposterous; she was fully willing to work under her Diamond, and they had cursed her for the privilege? Maybe she had too much faith in them.

Above her, Peridot began reading. The words had an immediate effect on her, even if they were in a language she couldn’t understand. She got the gist of them from Peridot’s tone alone.

“Come back to me.”

And then she could feel it. The pull coming to a stop, Her soul coming free. Could feel the water morphing, shaping itself into Lapis Lazuli as she was. She could smell, she could see, she could hear, she could-- she could  _ feel! _

After what felt like an eternity, an eternity that couldn’t last long enough, she was  _ back. _ Lapis Lazuli, in the flesh, standing in the hole where once there was a pool.

* * *

 

Peridot didn’t even think. She hopped down with no hesitation, straight down to the girl she had missed for so long. Her dorm-mate, her lab partner, her best friend. She threw her arms around Lapis, pulling her into a tight hug.

And in response, Lapis did what she’d wanted to do for years: she cupped Peridot’s cheeks and pulled her into a deep kiss.

She stared into Lapis’ eyes, clear as the pond, and felt the warmth and the faint taste of water on her lips. It’s perfect, more than perfect. Meant to be.

Lapis breaks the kiss and presses their foreheads together. She’s weeping; Peridot’s only seen her cry a handful of times. “If you cheated death for me, you’d  _ better _ have taken good care of Pumpkin,” she says, teasing.

All Peridot can do is initiate another kiss.

Lapis Lazuli. Back to life, through the power of love and hope.


End file.
